


Work-Life Balance

by mrs_d



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Seasonal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 13:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13032375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: Sam sighed. It was officially 6:31, and Steve was officially late to their daughter's Christmas pageant.





	Work-Life Balance

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, chasm-side for beta & encouragement!

Sam checked his watch, again, just in time to see the second hand round the twelve, and sighed. It was officially 6:31, and Steve was officially late.

He’d been called away during dinner an hour ago, and he said that it was nothing serious, but in their line of work, you never knew. Their daughter didn’t seem to notice, accepting Steve’s promise that he wouldn’t miss the pageant, but Sam was worried.

He’d gotten Sierra dressed — so cute in her white dress with red trim — and redid her hair, then bundled her up and walked her to the school. The whole way, she babbled excitedly about the concert.

“I’m a alto,” she told him for what had to be the thousandth time. “Mr. Radd said I could be sup-er-ano—” she always had trouble with that word, “—or alto, so I thought about it and decided I’m a alto. Maybe next year I’ll switch,” she added. “Do you think I should switch, Daddy?”

“It’s up to you, sweetheart,” Sam answered, a little absently as he checked his phone for messages from Steve.

He and Sierra parted ways backstage, and Sam joined the group of grown-ups heading to the front of the auditorium. He was surprised to find many of the seats already filled, and in the half-hour since he fist-bumped his daughter (she was going through a no-hugs-in-public phase), people had continued to file in.   

Now there had to be 700 people crammed in this auditorium, which wasn’t doing a thing to help Sam’s anxiety. Every chair in the place was full, except for the one Sam was saving — which was earning him some serious dirty looks. Plus there were the parents, grandparents, and whoever-else standing around the edges of the room. Even if Steve did arrive before the curtain went up, Sam wasn’t sure he would find him. He worried about the doors closing, Steve being refused entry, Steve losing his temper, Steve getting banned from—

“Sam,” said a bright, unfortunately familiar voice from behind him, startling him out of his spiral. He shook it off and said a quick, silent prayer for patience as he turned in his seat.

“Ginger,” he greeted her, and her smile widened. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know, same old same old,” Ginger bubbled, tossing her orange hair. “I wasn’t sure that was you — hardly ever see you without your better half.”

Sam suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Ginger was always flirting with Steve, no matter how many times Steve told her, much more politely than Sam would, to knock it off.

“Where is he?” asked Ginger, raising her voice above the din of the crowd.

“You mean my _husband?”_ Sam stressed, like he always did. “He’s just running late.”

Ginger gave him a simpering smile. “Well, I certainly hope he’s here in time for Sierra’s solo,” she said, looking around the packed auditorium snootily. “I mean, what kind of parent—”

“Sam, how are you?” another voice interrupted loudly. Sam turned again — Maxine was leaning across the back of her chair, one row ahead of Sam.

“Can’t complain, Max,” Sam said with relief. “You?”

“Oh, I can think of a few things to complain about,” Max replied. She winked at him under the guise of brushing a few braids away from her face, and Sam knew she was talking about Ginger. “So when do you think this thing’s gonna start, anyway?”

Sam shrugged and glanced at his watch again — 6:34. “Probably three minutes before Steve gets here.”

“Permanently late, that one,” Maxine agreed. She glanced around the room and dropped her voice slightly. “Can you believe the number of people? And this is just the K to 4 group. The 4 to 8 is tomorrow.”

“Wow,” said Sam, for once grateful that he and Steve only had one kid.

“Lucky for me, Peter doesn’t want anything to do with it,” Max told him, and it took Sam a second to remember that Maxine’s older child was in grade 6. “He’s not into music, he’s too shy. Meanwhile, Daniella’s so excited, I don’t think she absorbed one second of her classes today.”

“Well, it’s the last week of term,” Sam pointed out. “And she’s in second grade. I don’t imagine there’s much to absorb right now.”

“True,” Maxine agreed with a small laugh. “Oh,” she added a second later, when the lights dimmed. “I guess we’re starting.”

“Guess so,” said Sam, looking glumly at the empty seat beside him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket — still no word.

The audience was quieting down, slowly but surely, as people realized what was going on. The stage lights blazed to life, and Sam could hear rustling on the other side. He smiled slightly when a male voice back there asked for quiet. Directing a kids’ Christmas pageant had to resemble herding cats from time to time, Sam thought.

But when this had gone for over a minute, and the curtains still didn’t open, Sam began to worry again. He wasn’t the only one: around him, parents and relatives were whispering, the sound like a hushed buzz moving through the room.

Then— a crack, followed by a thump, and a man stumbled through the gap between the curtains. His skin was astonishingly pale under the spotlight, his eyes wide with fear. It took Sam a moment to recognize him as one of the low-risk HYDRA agents they’d been hunting, and in that time Mr. Radd, the substitute music teacher in charge of the pageant, charged through the curtains after him. Seeing what was about to happen, Sam got to his feet and hustled up the aisle to stop the agent. He’d only jogged a few steps when the curtains fluttered again, and out stepped—

“Steve?” said Sam incredulously, but his voice got lost in the sound of a hundred and fifty kids storming the stage behind his husband.

The HYDRA agent, looking very much like a trapped rodent, tried to bolt for the emergency exits, but Mr. Radd shouted something, and the herd of children stampeded down the steps to block his path.

“Nowhere to go,” Steve called. “And I really don’t think you’re setting a good example for the children.”

“Yeah,” shouted a few of the kids.

“Take him away, Cap,” one of the older ones added.

“Now, hang on,” the agent began, but Mr. Radd made the gesture for silence, and Steve stepped forward to grab the agent.

“Tell it to the judge, buddy,” Sam heard him say, just before he cuffed him and the kids started to cheer. The audience joined in applause a second later.

Mr. Radd nodded to Steve, and Steve sent a quick, apologetic look over his shoulder to Sam as he started to lead the agent away.

“Dad,” cried a small voice that Sam would know anywhere. He turned in time for Sierra to collide with his legs. “Where are you going?” she yelled over the clapping. “You’ll miss my song!”

“Dad has to work,” said Sam.

Steve paused and looked again at Sam, his face conflicted. _You promised her,_ Sam mouthed at him, because Steve was pretty good at reading lips.

Steve hesitated another second, then nodded and turned back. Instead of leading the criminal out through the back, he took him to the edge of the first row, where there were some guests leaning on the auditorium wall.

“He’s staying?” Sierra asked Sam.

“He promised,” Sam answered simply. “Now, you’d better get back up on the stage, sugarplum.”

“Kay,” said Sierra with the brightest grin Sam had ever seen. She fist-bumped Sam again and waved to Steve before dashing up the stairs to join the other altos. Sam, meanwhile, headed over to join his husband and the man he was holding in custody. They were able to flank him — this little corner of the jammed auditorium was suddenly empty.

“Hi, honey, sorry I’m late,” Steve said, as the audience settled once again.

“Yeah, well, at least you had a good reason,” Sam replied.

On the stage, Mr. Radd gave his opening remarks and began to lead the kindergartners in a round of “Jingle Bells.”

“Oh, come on, this is cruel and unusual punishment,” the HYDRA agent grumbled.

“Put a sock in it, Nazi,” Steve told him carelessly.

The kids finished their (loud, off-key) song, and Sam clapped along with the rest of the crowd, even as the HYDRA agent between them started complaining again.

“You know, of all the ways I expected having a kid to change my life,” Steve said, quietly gagging him, “this was not at the top of the list.”

The first-graders stepped forward, Sierra with her head held high in the front row. Sam pulled out his phone to film them.

“It’s the little things,” he agreed, as their daughter started to sing.


End file.
